


permutations

by adreamaloud, daneorange (adreamaloud)



Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:48:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/adreamaloud, https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/daneorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gail beats Holly at something, finally. Poker, luck and non-mornings after. All errors are mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	permutations

  

When Gail opens her call to Holly that night, she says: "Guess what's in the cards for tonight?"

Phone between ear and shoulder, Holly takes a moment to turn away from her autopsy, pausing her recorder. "I'm in the middle of something I am actually _rushing_ for you guys," she says, though her smile probably seeps through her voice anyway. "This better be good."

"Poker," says Gail. "And _what_ rushing?"

"Detective Swarek was here." Holly listens in as Gail gets quiet, and though she doesn't want to be the sort of girl's who's _bothered_ by the little things -- it does. _A little._ Holly blinks and shrugs it off. "But anyway -- _poker_."

On the other end, Gail breathes in. "That's right."

"What happened to actually _beating_ me at something?" Holly teases.

"Who says I won't?"

"The person who's willing to bet she'll beat you at cards. Tonight. Where?"

"The usual," says Gail. "Listen. Chris can't make it and Dov and Chloe are going to be at the table, and I really _really_ do not want to--"

"Hey," Holly interrupts softly. "No worries. Plus one forever, right?"

"Right." There's a small laugh on Gail's end that's so adorable, it's infuriating. "So. Seven?"

"I'm off at six."

"Whatever happened to _rushing something_ for 15?"

"I did say _rushing_ right? Means I'll be finished on time. Besides, I've got a date."

"Did you just call it a date?"

Holly laughs. There's a nervousness to it that she doesn't want to recognize. "Unless I could squeeze in this girl I was talking to the other day, I technically have 6-7 free--"

Gail pauses for a moment before saying: "Oh." And then, "We could move to 8?"

"Shut up, Peck," Holly says. Her heart's racing in that familiar way that's not entirely unpleasant, but still -- a subtle ache. "Come meet me at six. Help me pick out my clothes."

"Ah, so this is how girls do it, then?"

"I intend to win _in style_ ," Holly just says, and there's really no denying this, is there? This thing. It's here, whatever it is, and Holly thinks it's actually pretty nice. Unexpected, but nice. “And Gail?”

“Hm?”

“’Guess what’s in the cards tonight?’ Really?”

“Hey,” says Gail, drawing the word out. “I thought about that. Like, _really_ hard.”

“You really are insane.” Holly bites down on her lip – right on the spot where the memory of Gail’s still linger. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” says Gail, voice soft. “See you later, nerd.”

*

Gail arrives at five-thirty, walking in without knocking and handing Holly a bottle of water. Holly takes it and tries to hide the surprise on her face with a raised brow. She’s seated by her table when Gail arrives, reviewing the day’s notes before putting them away.

“You’re early,” says Holly, unscrewing the cap off the bottle and drinking. Bless Gail and her intuition; she had been planning to refill her water bottle for over an hour already.

Even without taking her eyes off the page she’s reading, from the corner of her eye Holly can see Gail looking around, hands in pockets. She’s now in plainclothes, but she walks around like she’s always on duty – that swagger is unmistakable, and Holly likes it. She likes it a lot.

“What can I say,” says Gail, settling on the seat Holly had left across the room.  “It’s the irresistible deathly ambiance. It gets to me.”

Holly smirks. “And here I was, thinking you’re here for the pleasure of my company.” When she looks up, Gail’s looking right at her, leaned back with her hands linked behind her head, and Holly thinks, _I think this girl is trying to kill me._

“And that too,” Gail admits, smile softening the smug look on her face just _so._ “Killer combo, that. You should try it.”

“The pleasure of my company _and_ my office’s deathly ambiance. Couldn’t say I wouldn’t be the first one to agree,” Holly says. When she meets Gail’s eyes from across the room, the questions rush into her head: _What did you do today? What did you see? Are you tired? Is there anything—_ Holly forces herself to blink. _Stop,_ she tells herself, breathing in.

“You all right?” Gail must have sensed something; she rearranges herself on the seat, leaning closer with her elbows on her knees, the look on her face shifting to one of slight concern.

Holly bites down on the tip of her tongue. “I’m fine. Just a long day,” she says, tucking the folder she’s holding into a drawer. “Hey. Let me just take five minutes, hm? You should have told me you’d be early.”

Gail waves her hand dismissively. “Don’t mind me, _Dr Stewart_ ,” she says, settling back into her seat and crossing her legs. “I’d be over here… keeping my hands to myself and behaving until you’re done. Take your time.” And then, softer: “I _really_ like your office.”

From where she’s standing, Holly can see Gail grinning at her, and in that moment, Gail looks _so young_ , her eyes bright; right then Holly remembers why she’d kissed this girl in the first place. _Whoa there, Stewart,_ she chides herself as she turns away, putting the last of the files away. She shrugs off her lab coat and shrugs on her jacket, pocketing her keys.

When she turns back to Gail, she’s already standing, hands in pockets again, looking expectedly at Holly. “I hope you don’t mind,” Holly begins. “But we still have to swing by my apartment.”

Gail shrugs, like Holly hadn’t just invited her _to her place_. “I don’t mind,” she says, opening the door. “Ready?”

*

Holly peeks first before letting Gail in after her, breathing out in relief when she finds her apartment decent despite not having expected company. It’s a small one-bed on the seventh floor, not too far from the station and with a nice view of the city at midnight.

The first thing Gail checks is the window, and Holly pauses by her bedroom door, watching Gail treat the apartment like a crime scene.

“Gail,” she calls out softly, and Gail looks at her like she’d just been caught snooping – the look on her face is adorable beyond words. Holly laughs softly. “Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. I’d be right out.”

Holly leans against the closed door of her bedroom and thinks, _Gail._ The simplicity of _this_ is still the biggest surprise of all.

When she comes back out, hanger in each hand, Gail is still standing in the middle of the living room, looking out the window. Holly clears her throat. “So.”

Gail turns to her sharply, surprised like she’d just been interrupted while in deep thought. “Hey.” Holly raises her hands a little higher, like she’s saying, _Look._ “That one,” says Gail automatically, pointing to the blue button-down Holly’s holding in her left hand.

“I am totally disappointed you did not go for the flannel,” Holly teases.

“Only because I know you’d like that one better,” says Gail, trying to temper a smile.

Holly looks at her and tries not to think about how ordinary this feels – how familiar, how _easy_. Holly knows girls, she knows awkward and difficult, and Gail is none of that – Gail is weird and sarcastic and _comfortable._ She looks good standing in the middle of her living room; it’s like she _belongs_ there.

“And I like blue,” Gail offers. “It brings out the color of your eyes. Or whatever.”

“Really?” says Holly, blinking. “You choose to use that line on me?”

“I’m _trying_ here okay.”

They share a moment where they try to keep their laughs in before spending the next five minutes letting all of it out, chests pounding. Holly looks at Gail and tries to commit the sounds she makes to memory.

_Feels so good to laugh this way,_ Holly thinks. _How can anything be so easy?_

*

The first thing Chloe does upon introduction is turn to Holly and say, “Nice top.”

Holly smiles and says, “Thank you. I’ve been given stellar fashion advice.” She decides she likes Officer Price – likes the general sunny disposition, the sincerity of her smile. She glances briefly over at Gail, who’d just pulled out a chair _for_ her before settling into the seat beside it. _Look at you and your chivalry,_ Holly almost says out loud. 

“Blue looks good on you,” says Chloe, taking the seat on Holly’s other side. “Right Dov?”

He nods, smiling tightly in that boyish way Holly finds endearing. “Yes,” he says, like he’s actually being careful about his words. He turns to Gail and slides the pack of cards toward her. “The last time I shuffled, you said _my hand_ caused your misfortune.”

Gail smirks. “It _did_ ,” she insists, taking the pack from under Dov’s hands and shuffling it deftly twice. Holly stares at Gail’s fingers far longer than appropriate. “Go get us some drinks. Holly?”

Holly blinks, turns to Dov and prays she isn’t blushing. “Whatever Gail’s having.” Chloe puts a hand on Holly’s shoulder briefly before standing to join Dov at the bar.

“You ok?” Gail’s still looking at the cards in her hand when she asks. Holly breathes out. She’s done this whole _meeting the friends_ thing a couple of times – one was good, the other could have gone better.  She decides it’s too early to tell Gail about _that_.

“I’m good,” she says instead. “Officer Epstein and Officer Price—”

“Dov and Chloe,” Gail corrects. Holly follows Gail’s gaze – she’s looking at the two of them standing closely at the bar, Dov’s hand perched comfortably on Chloe’s shoulder. “When we’re out of the station—”

“I know,” says Holly. “I just—I don’t want to seem too familiar. Know what I’m saying?”

“Mhmm.” Gail starts squaring the pack of cards, tapping the edges against the table. “Dov is a bad bluffer, but we let him believe he’s doing well. Let him win a few early rounds then kill him toward the end. He tends to bet big when he’s confident.”

Holly laughs. “Sharing your tips with me already?”

“What can I say? I’m feeling a bit generous tonight.”

“Poker isn’t a team sport.”

“I can see your cards from here,” says Gail, inching closer to her – close enough for their shoulders to touch. Holly laughs harder, nudging her lightly.

“That’s cheating.”

“Not if you cooperate.” Gail hovers closer, biting down the corner of her lips. Holly breathes in, savoring this moment of mischief – _If I lean this way, I could…_

The moment is broken by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Gail turns her face away slowly, looking up toward Dov, who is handing them two bottles of beer. “Sorry,” he just says, shrugging like he’s adding, _I have to say something, don’t I?_  

Holly laughs softly as she says, “Thank you.” Then to Gail, “So, are you going to deal or are we just going to stare at those cards all night?”

It’s Dov’s turn to laugh. “Looks like you brought competition tonight, Peck.”

Gail huffs, shuffling again before tossing the first card toward Dov. “I _am_ the competition, Epstein.” Holly surveys the table: Dov’s in an odd looking stare down with Gail, while Chloe’s looking on quietly, amused smile on her face.

“It’s a bit like playing with teenage boys,” says Chloe under her breath, leaning closer to Holly like they were sharing a secret.

“Is it always like this?” asks Holly. If there’s anything she’s used to, it’s teenage boys; she still remembers growing up in a house full of those huge rowdy animals.

“You should wait til Dov’s a bit drunk,” Chloe replies. And then, off the chuckle that escapes Holly: “I’m glad you’re here.”

She feels Gail nudge her foot under the table, and when Holly looks back, her cards have been dealt, and Gail’s looking at her with a brow raised as if in challenge. Holly breathes in. _Here we go._ She peeks at her cards, lifting the corners carefully before lowering them again, smoothing the edges upon the table.

“So?” Gail says. Dov leans back, hands behind his head, a satisfied smirk on his face, while Chloe just frowns. _Oh this is going to be so easy,_ Holly thinks idly, biting down on her lip.

“So what’s it gonna be, Officer?” asks Holly, letting her hand drift under the table and setting it upon Gail’s knee. The skin there warms almost instantly; Gail tilts her head toward her, eyes widening slightly like a warning. _It isn’t cheating if you can’t see the cards in my hand,_ Holly just thinks, holding on.

*

Losers buy the round, and on the first time Gail loses a hand, Holly joins her at the bar. She’s lost track of time; by her estimate, Holly thinks it’s been at least three hours. In between hands, Holly listened in as they talked about the day, alternating between ribbing each other and mentioning other officers by their first names -- Chris and Oliver, mostly. Once, Dov mentioned Andy McNally; the way Gail’s mood shifted at that troubled Holly slightly. _Someday, maybe,_ she just thinks, taking note.

“Hey,” she greets softly, slipping right beside Gail. She feels warm to the touch; must be all that alcohol in her system.

“Hey.” Gail turns around, resting back against the bar on both elbows. Holly fiddles with the strap of Gail’s watch absently, staring at a spot on Gail’s neck. “You having fun?”

“Winning, you mean?” Holly teases, and Gail sticks her tongue out at her before looking back out at Dov and Chloe at their table, foreheads pressed together as they talked.  “How long have they been together?”

Gail shrugs. “Long enough,” she just says. “So annoyingly cute together, aren’t they.”

“Disgusting what love does to people, eh?” Holly tilts her head, holding her breath as she waits for Gail’s response. Gail only smirks at her before turning around to get their drinks. Holly exhales, taking Dov’s and Chloe’s before following Gail back.

It’s Holly’s turn to break the moment, and she finds it extra satisfactory when she clears her throat, this time. Dov and Chloe break apart, blushing like teenagers caught. Holly hands Dov his beer, laughing and mouthing her apology.

“All right, I am _done_ letting Dr Stewart win,” says Dov, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Let’s play some _poker_.”

Gail laughs, shuffling the deck. “Where have you been all night, Epstein?”

*

“How many times did Dr. Autopsy here own all of us, again?” Dov asks at the end of the night, forehead against the table.

Chloe starts counting with her hands. “I think the score’s seventeen Holly, eight Gail, five—”

“ _Chloe._ ” Dov groans, peeling himself off the table. Then, turning to Gail: “Next time, bring someone less… _lucky_.”

Holly laughs, leaning against Gail, entwining their hands. The gesture is automatic and _easy_ and when Gail simply hums her response, Holly’s close enough to feel the sound vibrating inside Gail’s chest. Sure, they’re drunk, but Holly knows this warmth is something more than just the alcohol.

“I was just lucky tonight,” says Holly, tightening her grip around Gail’s hand.

*

Dov puts them together in a cab later, when they’ve had enough water back in their bodies, and Gail could open her eyes again. There’s a slight throbbing somewhere inside Holly’s head that she recognizes as the beginnings of a hangover. _What am I, twenty?_ She lets out a soft groan before giving the driver her address.

Gail says nothing throughout the trip; just holds Holly’s hand in hers warmly. The gesture puts a couple of questions in Holly’s head, which she promptly pushes away for the meantime. _Later,_ she tells herself. There are things that cure hangovers, and questions like that aren’t among them.

When the cab stops in front of Holly’s, Gail pays and gets out. Holly says nothing, wanting to see where this would go. She has no idea how much of Gail is still operating on alcohol at the moment, but as long as no one’s about to injure herself, Holly lets it be. She follows Gail as she walks toward the apartment’s entrance like she were the one _living_ here.

_Hmm, how about that,_ Holly just thinks. When she gets to the top of the front steps, Gail looks back at her, tilting her head like she’s asking her what’s wrong. Holly shakes her head, says nothing and half-jogs up the steps, catching up.

When they get to her door, Holly nonchalantly takes out her key and turns the knob, holding the door open for Gail. Shrugging, Gail steps in. _You still drunk, Peck?_ Holly wants to ask, but she likes this space of uncertainty too much to break it. She keeps her mouth shut, depositing her keys at the desk near the door before moving to flip the switch.

“Ow,” Gail says softly at the light – the first sound she’s made since getting out of the bar.

“Sorry. Too bright?” Holly asks, flipping the switch again and turning the lights off. Like this, the room is illuminated only by the light coming in from the window. “Better?”

Gail nods, approaching Holly in the middle of the living room. Holly holds her breath until Gail stands in front of her, close enough for her to hear her breathing.

“What’s wrong?” Holly asks, swallowing hard. “Are you thirsty? I could get you—”

“Holly.” Holly finds herself closing her eyes at the feel of Gail’s hands upon her face. Her palms are warm but shaky, and all Holly could think about is, _Please don’t say my name like that._ She hears Gail breathe out before pulling Holly in, and just like that Gail’s kissing her.

Right in the middle of this dark apartment, Gail is standing with her hands on Holly’s cheeks, and she’s _kissing her._

_How did we get here, and how much of this is alcohol,_ is what Holly wants to know, but then again, she tells herself: _Later_. Right now, what fills her mind is Gail’s surprising _softness_. The thought of it delights her so much that she actually feels a laugh bubbling in her chest.

The kiss lasts forever, or almost, and when Gail breaks away from it, the first thing Holly does is laugh softly.

“What?” asks Gail. In the dark, she could see Gail chewing down on her lip, like she’s _worried_ she’d done something wrong.

Holly touches Gail’s temple tenderly with her fingertips. “Hey,” she just says, for the lack of better words. “Are you okay?”

"Looks like I beat you at something tonight," Gail just says, softly.

*

Gail doesn’t stay the night, but she stays for a long while; they spend most of it kissing lazily on Holly’s couch like it’s the most natural thing. Gail keeps her hands linked behind Holly’s neck, while Holly lets hers wander – trying out spaces tentatively, all the while checking out Gail’s response. She doesn’t seem to have ticklish spots, which Holly notes with a certain disappointment; that, or she’s just so into this that she doesn’t care where Holly touches her.

_Maybe,_ Holly thinks, and the thought puts a smile on her lips.

“Hmm?” asks Gail, as Holly shifts against her. When Holly opens her eyes, Gail’s are still closed, and in the end, Holly is unable to resist reaching up to touch the lids softly.

“Not that I can’t do this forever,” Holly murmurs against Gail’s skin, “But you probably should get some sleep. Do you have shift tomorrow?” She pulls back a little to watch Gail’s face; she’d phrased that sentence carefully in her head, and she’s hoping it came out the way it’s supposed to.

“In a few hours,” says Gail, smiling. “I should probably go.”

And Holly understands that; she’s dated enough girls to know how some are not built for mornings after. She doesn’t know yet what Gail is like; it’s too early to conclude anything.

Holly leans in to kiss her again briefly before standing, pulling Gail up with her and straightening Gail’s collar. “Call me when you get home?”

“Yeah.” Gail moves in to kiss her again and out of instinct, Holly wraps her hands around Gail’s waist, pulling her in closer. “If you keep this up, I’ll never get out of here,” Gail says. There’s a rasp in her voice that’s entirely new to Holly, and it puts a tremble in her knees.

“Maybe next time you could stay,” Holly ventures.

“Maybe next time I will.”

*

Holly is awake in bed when Gail’s text arrives. _Home,_ the first one says, immediately followed with, _I don’t think I can sleep._

Holly smiles; she really likes this space they’re in. _I have to be up in two hours,_ she says back. _And I can’t sleep either._

_A bit of a problem we’ve put ourselves in,_ says Gail.

Holly rubs at her eyes, trying not to look at the clock. _You’re going to owe me coffee tomorrow, Officer Peck._

To which Gail replies: _I’ll see you tomorrow then, Dr Stewart._

This is how Holly falls asleep that night: Trying to find a word for _this feeling_ , and coming up with none. #


End file.
